


The Sound of Silence

by alylynn122



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean-Centric, Guilt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Introspective Dean Winchester, Post-Mark of Cain, Prison, Psychological Torture, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:56:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alylynn122/pseuds/alylynn122
Summary: Dean knew sounds, sometimes so much he thought he would lose himself in them.But silence.Dean didn’t know silence.And in that cell. That tiny, concrete, isolated cell, he found out a horrifying truth. Silence was the worst sound of them all.





	The Sound of Silence

Silence.    
  
All around him was silence.    
  
And Dean had known noise so loud his ears bled. He had known the ear-splitting agony of a cacophony of screams. He’d known the sound of a dying man’s last breath. The sound of Sam’s heartbeat. The sound of Castiel’s voice when it said his name. The sound of Crowley’s laugh. All of these sounds, he knew. The snarl of a vampire. The squeal of a demon. The cackle of a djinn. He knew sounds people could only dream about, would wake up screaming from in their nightmares. Yes, sounds. Dean knew sounds, sometimes so much he thought he would lose himself in them.    
  
But silence.    
  
Dean didn’t know silence.    
  
And in that cell. That tiny, concrete, isolated cell, he found out a horrifying truth. Silence was the worst sound of them all.    
  


And god, it hurt. It  _ burned _ . He found himself stinging with the pain of a thousand bullet wounds. His throat closed around the feeling of a knife sliding into him. Over and over. Broken bones, being flayed alive. Here, in the silence, Dean relived it all.    
  
He found himself thumbing his right arm, where the Mark of Cain used to be. He could feel it charring him, burning into his flesh with all the promise of a rebirthed monster. Because that’s what he was. A monster.    
  
The people he’d killed. The people he’d been unable to protect. The promises he’d made, lives he’d destroyed. Countless. And at some point along the way, it stopped hurting. He stabbed demons and angels without a spare thought to the names and lives of their vessels. He killed anyone who got in his way, made friends with monsters and demons and witches because it served his own goals, nevermind their victims. The lives they’d stolen.    
  
And when he got the Mark, he’d realized. Sure, it made him angry, less likely to ignore is impulses. But that killer? The monster that had been unleashed by the Mark was  _ not  _ the Mark. It was Dean. It was him underneath the tattered moral code he forced on himself every day like armor. Like chains. Weighing him down and stopping the monster from escaping.    
  
And the Mark had made him feel  _ free.  _ It terrified him, the glee he had felt at not caring anymore. Not carrying around that burden of his code. He’d been so light. Get the job done, no matter the cost. And kill anyone who stood in his way.    
  
That was him. And he didn’t need a Mark to become that. No, Dean Winchester was only one wrong step away from becoming the worst monster he had ever seen. 

 

Here, in the silence, with no one but himself to turn to, Dean could see things clearly. He was a monster. It wasn’t a fear, an anxiety. It was a future. This road would lead him back to the person he had been with the Mark. Except this time, it would just be him. Along the way, he lost more and more of his inhibitions, more and more of his humanity. And it swallowed him up.    
  
Then the silence was gone.    
  
Replaced by the screams of the thousands of souls he had wiped out. Replaced by the gurgled pleads of his victims in Hell. Replaced by a chorus of his name, raining down on him their anger and disappointment and  _ fear _ . 

  
He found himself on his knees, hands over his ears, screaming for it to just  _ end _ .    
  
And he knew how.    
  
“Billie.”    
  
A Winchester would die at midnight. And it would be Dean. Because that was the answer. The way to kill this monster before it was unleashed.    
  
He wondered what death, true everlasting death, would be like.    
  
He hoped it wasn’t quiet. 


End file.
